


Of Cabbages and Kings

by Schizanthus, Smolbeep



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schizanthus/pseuds/Schizanthus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolbeep/pseuds/Smolbeep
Summary: Just another take on the "mysterious magical thing turns main characters into small children so we can have platonic fluff" trope. Because. All. The. Fluff.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smolbeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolbeep/gifts).



> Immense thanks to [Smolbeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolbeep) for the incessant poking to write this. It would still be a one page crack outline hidden in the depths of my Evernote folders if she wasn't so persistent. 
> 
> Piles of gratitude also to [Lynxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLynxx) for giving this a more serious beta reading than it really deserved. Such an eloquent and clever vixen, that one.

It was an hour before lunchtime on a completely normal weekday when the delivery arrived. After an initial bout of hesitation when the courier refused to specify whence or from whom his consignment originated, Phillip reluctantly signed for the parcel and retreated back to the office with his newly acquired mystery. Setting it on his desk, he waited patiently for Barnum to finish scribbling in his ledger before clearing his throat.

"Do you know what this is, PT?"

Barnum glanced over with a puzzled expression. "Haven't the slightest."

"Usually when you say that, it means you forgot to specify that the delivery should be made in my absence."

This earned the small, ornate package a minute of closer scrutiny from Barnum.

"No, pretty sure that isn't mine."

Giving in to curiosity, Phillip untied the knotted gold twine and peeled back the heavy wrapping paper to reveal an intricately carved birchwood box inlaid with ivory. A simple calling card sat on top of it, with the words "from the Amazing Vinculus" scrawled across in barely legible script.

"'The Amazing Vinculus'? That sounds like... an act."

"Oh!" Barnum suddenly sat upright in his chair, a look of recognition spreading across his features.

"So this _is_ one of your unapproved shipments."

"No, I never said that."

Another beat of silence. With the last of his rapidly waning tolerance, Phillip addressed his bemused-looking partner.  "Who is this man, PT?"

Letting out a dismissive snort, Barnum gestured vaguely toward the front entrance. "Oh, just some street magician that accosted me on the way in last week. Covered in rags, didn't even have a hat or a rabbit. Started raving about 'real magic' and insulting our show. I might have called him a quack."

Betraying the smallest wince at the exchange of slights, Phillip prompted Barnum when more was not forthcoming. "And... how did he respond?"

"He got really mad and called me an imposter. Lacking understanding of deeper mysteries. Infantile."

The observations elicited a raised eyebrow, but Phillip refrained from commenting on the veracity of the offending statements.

"He said his miracles were more real than anything I could imagine. I can imagine a lot."

"That... is true. Well, he seems to have calmed down if he's sending a gift. Perhaps we should send him something in return. Do you think he just wanted to auditi... "

During their exchange, Barnum had steadily made his way over to examine the box. He now held it in his hands and cracked open the lid, only to quickly set it down and reel backwards as it violently expelled a cloud of pink powder. Phillip's eyes widened in alarm as the dust rapidly filled the room, mixing with the air they were breathing.

"PT? I'm feeling kind of funny..."

They both fainted.

\-----

Knocking, Lettie decided, was obviously a wasted endeavor. She had done so politely for a few minutes now and had been thoroughly ignored, despite hearing voices and thumps of activity coming from inside the ringmasters' office. She had given them enough time, surely. Tentatively, she cracked the door open and walked in, ready to avert her gaze if necessary. What she saw, however, she did not have a prepared reaction for.

Barnum's signature red coat lay in a heap on the carpet in the middle of the office. That, in itself, was not unusual -- he was not the tidiest man on the best of days. The fact that the heap wriggled as if possessed by the ghosts of a dozen puppies was of more concern, perhaps. As Lettie watched, a tousled, tow-haired head poked out from under the tails. The rest of a small boy, about four years of age, if she wasn't mistaken, appeared shortly thereafter. The boy stood up, huffed in frustration, then started pulling backwards on the coattails with all his might.

As the coat was pulled back -- at a grudgingly tortuous pace, she noted with respect -- a second boy was revealed. Smaller, perhaps two years old, with an unruly mop of blond curls made all the more so from rolling around under the coat, he clung tenaciously to the ornately embroidered coat sleeves and growled with indignation.

The older boy gave a hard tug and the coat finally came loose, sending both children toppling onto their rears. He promptly rolled upright, donned the garment, and started strutting around the room in a display of supreme self-satisfaction, sleeves flapping as he waved his arms about. After several feet, however, he stumbled to a halt, impeded in his procession of triumph by the coat snagging on something. Or someone, as it turned out. The remarkably persistent toddler had caught hold of the tails again, and was now half-sitting, half-dragging them.

_Who would leave children this young unattended,_ Lettie wondered. _In a circus office, no less. Some irresponsible guests? But they do look oddly familiar. Does Barnum have additional children we don’t know about? Does Phillip? And where, pray tell, have our distinguished ringleaders disappeared to?_ Her train of thought was interrupted by a particularly loud thump, followed by a piercing wail, which dissolved into loud sobbing.

Without a second's hesitation, Lettie rushed over to the fallen toddler, scooping him up into her arms and murmuring soothing sounds as she stroked his hair. The child snuffled into her neck and clutched at her dress, but his crying gradually subsided as she hummed soft lullabies, swaying side to side in time with the melody. She looked down to see he was now sucking on his thumb, blinking drowsily against the comforting warmth of her chest. Tucking her newly acquired charge into a more comfortable cradling position against her hip, Lettie approached the other boy, who was now twirling around and humming an upbeat tune to himself while waving at an imaginary audience.

"Hello, there. What's your name, little sir?"

The older child came to a clumsy halt, looking up as if noticing her for the first time. His hazel eyes widened the tiniest bit upon reaching her face, then he pulled himself up to stand at attention, clearing his throat and giving her a courteous bow of greeting.

He shot her a lopsided grin and replied with a slight lisp, "Phineas Taylor Barnum, at your service, ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus material! [Smolbeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolbeep) did some Inktober illustrations relevant to this fic and graciously allowed me to post them here. Thank you so much for all the adorableness, bb! <3


End file.
